


Curious

by youngscrappynhungry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 16-year-olds fooling around, Blow Jobs, Broom cupboard hook-ups, Coming Out, First Time, Get-Together Fic, Hand Jobs, Hogwarts, Homophobia, Horribly wrong Britishisms, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, MWPP, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Not exactly canon but not exactly not-canon, Quidditch, The Marauder's Map, in the closet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:19:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngscrappynhungry/pseuds/youngscrappynhungry
Summary: "Haven't you ever.... you know, been curious?""What?  No," said Remus, too quickly."Oh, come on," he continued.  "I've seen the way you look at Black.  Sometimes I've the urge to wipe the drool off your chin."**update 11/18/18: so sorry for the slow update, I’ve hit a bit of writer’s block. I think about the story all the time and just need to get ‘round to writing it. I’m sorry!!! I’ll update as soon as I can!!**





	1. Partners

“Now class, who can tell me what potion this is?” Slughorn announced on a Monday afternoon, as the students were shuffling to their seats. He was standing behind a cauldron full of a shimmering, opalescent potion. As Remus walked by, he caught a whiff of old books, dark chocolate, and... wet dog? He took his seat at the table next to Sirius and James (Peter hadn’t decided to take Potions this year).

“Anyone?” Slughorn asked, once all of the students were seated.

A Ravenclaw, towards the front, raised her hand. “Amortentia, a love potion.” 

“Ding ding ding, that is correct! And not just any love potion, eh?” Slughorn said with a sly smile. “The most potent love potion known to wizardkind! And how did Miss Dubois know it was Amortentia?” He scanned the class, his eyes happily landing on Lily, who had her hand raised.

“The mother-of-pearl color, and the way it smells. It smells different to everyone, based on what they like.” James, who had been playing an aggressive version of footsie with Sirius under the desk, perked up to attention when Lily spoke. Remus wondered what Amortentia smelled like to Lily, and if there was any way it smelled like James’ cologne. Probably not.

“Yes, yes, yes, another perfect answer!” Slughorn said, delighted. “And today, we get to start creating our very own! But don’t get too excited -- at the end of the assignment, we’ll be emptying the cauldrons completely. No takeaways! Heaven knows how much trouble we’d be in if Hogwarts had another love potion craze,” he added, more to himself than to the class. “Now, students, for this assignment, I’d like you to pair up --” the class groaned “--pair up, and make sure your partner doesn’t sneak any Amortentia when you’re not looking!”

And then began the frantic game of looking to each person in the room, in order of agreeability, to partner up. James and Sirius, of course, never had to do this; they were partners in every class assignment they’ve had since first year. But now that Peter wasn’t in Potions, Remus constantly had to find a new partner. He generally liked to be with Lily - she was smart and really good at Potions. Of course, that meant that  _ everyone _ wanted to be partnered with Lily, so by the time Remus caught her eye, she was already sitting next to one of her girlfriends. “Sorry,” she lipped to him.

No bother, Remus would just find a different partner. He wasn’t very good at Potions but he worked hard, so he didn’t usually have trouble finding a partner. He turned to his left, and locked eyes with a Ravenclaw named Digby Wilson. Digby was decent at Potions, and Remus generally got along well with Ravenclaws. He smiled at him, and the other boy nodded. He picked up his things and moved to the empty seat by Remus without sitting down.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Remus said back. “Partners?”

“Sure. Let’s get started, then,” Digby said. He grabbed Remus by the wrist and pulled him out of his seat, then headed towards the supply shelves. They had to queue behind a group of their classmates; they had been some of the last people to partner up.

“You’re on the Quidditch team, aren’t you?” Remus said. He recognized him from a lot of James and Sirius’ games.

“Sure am,” said Digby, a little cocky. “Captain, actually.”

“Neat,” said Remus. They waited in silence for a minute until they were able to get the ingredients from the shelf and headed back to their table.

Remus was normally awful at small talk, he just hated it. But he found it surprisingly easy to talk with Digby. Digby was the kind of bloke who had plenty to say, but listened too. They complained about the rainy weather and laughed at Slughorn’s awful enthusiasm.

That first day, they weighed and measured and passed ingredients to each other and talked and bumped hands and laughed. Remus had wondered why he and Digby hadn’t partnered before, and why it took him until sixth year to even have a conversation with him.

The period flew by, and by the end of it, Remus was wishing it was longer. He had half a mind to follow Digby right to dinner, but of course that wouldn’t work; he probably wanted to stop by the Ravenclaw common room and put his things down. So, instead, he followed James and Sirius up to Gryffindor tower, in a particularly good mood.

“You were having an awfully good time with Wilson,” James said in his signature singsong voice.

“Yeah, get a room next time, will you?” added Sirius.

Remus, used to this kind of teasing, just smiled and rolled his eyes. He knew his friends didn’t mean anything by it, they made the same kind of jokes about each other too. 

“What are you talking about?” asked Peter, smiling. He had beat them up to the boys’ dormitory after his Ancient Runes class.

“Oh, just Moony here got a new boyfriend,” crooned Sirius.

He didn’t know why, but Remus liked being teased about Digby.  He was trying to not smile; he didn’t even want to think about the hell he’d get if his face betrayed him.

“What happened to the old one?” Peter joined in on the joke.

Remus rolled his eyes again, this time making it extra dramatic. “Prongs and Padfoot are just jealous that I turned down their request for a threeway, even after all their begging.”

The four of them carried on that way until they headed down for dinner, laughing and punching each other until they got to the Great Hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do Gryffindors always have to be paired up with Slytherins for Potions? (I guess not...?)


	2. Moonstones

They had Potions three times a week. On the days he knew he’d see Digby, Remus got excited; and on the days he knew he wouldn’t, he wondered what Digby was up to. Did he enjoy spending time with Remus back? Did he ever think about Remus when they weren’t in Potions?

It was Friday, almost two weeks since they started on the Amortentia potion. Remus was sitting next to Digby in Potions; he opened his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ , flipping to the right page. “Alright, so, next step is to ‘Grind 23g moonstone into a fine powdered dust. Must grind each moonstone separately.’”

“God, this is going to take forever,” complained Digby.

“’S alright, we can both grind them at the same time,” said Remus optimistically, pulling out his scale. He carefully piled up moonstones, replacing some of the bigger ones with smaller ones until it measured exactly 23.0 grams. Digby, meanwhile, had pulled out his mortar and pestle and had gone into Remus’ bag to pull out his too.

They each took a moonstone, their hands bumping into each other. For a milisecond, Remus thought Digby might have bumped into him on purpose. But that’s ridiculous, they’re just working on the same pile of moonstones.

“D’you ever play? Quidditch, I mean,” Digby said.

“No, at least never on a team. I’ve goofed around, I guess, but no, not really.” 

“Why not?”

“Dunno, I don’t much care for being on a broom.”

Digby smiled. “You could come up with me some time, if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared, I just don’t like it,” Remus said defensively. Digby carefully swept his powder into a bowl between them and grabbed another moonstone.

“Are you coming to the Quidditch game tomorrow?” Digby continued unphased. Ravenclaw was playing against Gryffindor, meaning Digby would be playing against Sirius and James. Remus never missed a Gryffindor match, being best friends with the captain and all, but he was especially excited about the one tomorrow.

“Yeah, I mean, I catch all of the Gryffindor ones. My mates play.”

“Sirius Black?” Digby had a weird look on his face that Remus couldn’t quite decipher.

“Yeah, and James Potter.”

“Potter, of course. Him and Black are rather inseparable, aren’t they?”

“I guess,” Remus shrugged. Why were people always saying that? Were James and Sirius really the only pair of best mates in the whole school?

“You think they ever...” Digby made a vulgar gesture with his tongue in his mouth.

“Ew, no!” Remus said, kind of laughing.

“What?” Digby said, feigning innocence. “You know, a couple of guys, alone after a Quidditch match, showering in the locker room—”

“No,” Remus cut him off. “I can guarantee you that hasn’t happened.”

Digby raised an eyebrow, as if to ask how Remus can _guarantee_. 

“They’re not like that,” Remus said in defense. “You’re on the Quidditch team too, you’re not out there—” Remus stopped when he saw Digby’s guilty smile. “No,” he said in disbelief.

Digby shrugged. “Happens.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He had certainly never heard talk of blokes hooking up in the Quidditch showers—but would he have? The only Quidditch players he really knew were James and Sirius, and if they.... No, they couldn’t. They’re close but not that close. James would never. Sirius would never. Right?

“So you’re, you know” —he glanced around to make sure no one could hear— “bent?”

“No, not bent,” said Digby. “Just...curious. Haven’t you ever.... you know, been curious?” 

“What? No,” said Remus, too quickly.

“Oh, come on,” he continued. “I’ve seen the way you look at Black. Sometimes I’ve the urge to wipe the drool off your chin.”

Remus began frantically searching his brain for an excuse, a lie, a way he can cover this up. “Har har, very funny,” he said lifelessly, hoping that Digby would believe that Remus thought it was a joke, it was so preposterous. He stopped himself before saying something like, ‘we’re not all perverted like you.’ That would have been too far.

Digby shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you say, mate.” He went back to grinding his moonstone in the pestle, the trace of a smile still on his face.

Remus had so many questions and so much he wanted to say. But how do you have these kind of conversations without sounding like a creep?

After a minute, Remus whispered, “So you’ve been with blokes then?” He was trying to sound nonchalant but Digby saw right through him, he’s sure of it.

Digby looked up at Remus and raised an eyebrow suggestively. He was so effortlessly cool, calm, and collected, even when he’s talking about...this. For a quick second, Remus was jealous. But then, why would Remus need to be calm and collected anyway? It’s not like he frequently had conversations with handsome boys about other boys, right?

“Maaaybe,” he dragged it out. Then went back to his moonstone.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Remus said, picking up his pestle and trying to act like he didn’t care, but he was grinding his moonstone a bit harder than necessary. Why would Digby bring it up, and then not talk about it?

“Alright class,” boomed Slughorn’s voice from the front of the room. Remus hadn’t realized how quickly the period had gone by. “You can start packing up your things, and if you aren’t finished grinding your moonstones today, you’ll have a little extra time at the beginning of next class. But go off and have yourselves a good weekend!”

Digby looked at Remus and said, “Maybe I’ll tell you about it later.” He smiled and started packing up his things. Remus didn’t say anything. Digby patted him on the back on his way out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH I don't think Sirius actually played Quidditch... I feel like he would have mentioned it to Harry if he had. Also, he probably wouldn't drive a flying motorbike if he had a broom. BUT for the purposes of the story...he plays Quidditch...ok!


	3. A Note!

Up in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory, Remus lied on his four-poster bed. This was way too much to process, he thought. James and Sirius had already gone down to the Quidditch pitch—they were skipping dinner to get in some more practice before tomorrow’s match. Remus tried not to think about them snogging in the locker room, but he couldn’t get it out of his head. “There’s just no way,” he said out loud.

What if they weren’t practicing at all, and just wanted an excuse to be alone? No, no, that was stupid, there wasn’t anything James cared more about than Quidditch, and they had a big match tomorrow. But what about after the practice? Remus knew Sirius and James sometimes stayed later—he assumed they got caught up talking, or maybe up to some dumb prank.

“Yeah, _talking_ ,” Digby’s voice sounded in his head.

Maybe he’d go down and see for himself, after practice was over. There wasn’t anything wrong with a friend going to visit his friends, right?

The thing is, Remus didn’t know what he hoped for. Of course he never hoped that James was anything. But Sirius.... _What if Sirius was... curious_? Remus couldn’t help it, he liked the idea. Of course he wanted Sirius to be that way. He just wanted Sirius. But would it be worth it if it came at the expense of knowing that Sirius and James were together? The past few years, when Remus thought about Sirius showering in the Quidditch locker room, James was never part of the equation.

Remus exhaled, loud and frustrated. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now. Best not to think about it. He thought of something he could do to occupy himself; he could go down to the Great Hall and have dinner with Peter, but he wasn’t very hungry. Instead, he decided to get started on some homework.

He opened his rucksack, and sitting there on top was a balled up piece of parchment. A note! This was not unusual; the Marauders often passed notes to each other. It was usually a dirty joke or ideas for a new prank, and Remus always loved them.

He uncrumpled the note, but the handwriting didn’t match James’, Sirius’, or Peter’s:

If you’re curious....  
Meet me tonight  
Cupboard across from the Charms classroom  
9 pm

Remus went red in the face. He quickly crumpled the note back up and looked around. He was being stupid, he knew; no one was in the dormitory to see him, and even if they had been, no one could have read the note.

Remus was excited, then he was scared. Then excited again. Then scared again. Yep, just scared, the fear was settling in now. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening!

Images of Digby and Remus, alone in a broom closet, kept popping into Remus’ head, making him happy. But then other images popped into his head too—Digby, pointing and laughing at Remus, calling him queer, poof, bent—Sirius, showing up and laughing too—the whole school finding out—Remus being the laughing stock for the rest of his school life.

Remus felt sick.

But he couldn’t get that first image out of his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about Digby’s lips when he was talking, his rough hands, calloused from Quidditch, touching his own hands during Potions. His athletic body, thin and nimble but strong too, and the way his hair smelt when he leaned too close. 

Well, that settles it then. Remus will have to find an excuse to leave Gryffindor tower at 9 pm. _Actually,_ he thought, _it might be easier to leave now._ He packed up his things and headed toward the library. He could do homework until 9, then head up to the Charms classroom from there. Curfew for 6th years wasn’t until 11 on Friday nights, so he wouldn’t even have to sneak around. It was perfect.

In the library, Remus was having a hard time concentrating on his homework. He was reminded of how he feels every time Sirius is around—his brain gets fuzzy and he has to focus really hard on focusing. His mind kept bouncing back between the only two possible scenarios - Digby and him, experimenting in the closet; or Digby and the rest of the school, laughing at Remus. 

Shit, there’s a third possible scenario: what if it isn’t a joke, and Digby really does want to be with him, and Remus is bad at it? He hadn’t ever had a proper girlfriend. He went on his fair share of dates at Madam Puddifoot’s, but he’d never gone past polite good night kissing. Digby - clearly - has plenty of experience; not just with snogging in general, but snogging blokes.

_That’s it, I’m not going,_ Remus decides finally.

It’s 8:53. Remus had been staring at the clock’s second hand, counting ticks, for an eternity. He was jittery; his hands kept clenching and unclenching, his knee bouncing beneath the desk.

8:54.

8:55. Finally Remus packs up his things and heads out of the library. He doesn’t want to be late.

Remus is staring at his watch on his way out the library, when he runs, quite literally, into Peter.

“Oi! There you are, Moony!” Peter greeted him. “I knew you’d be down here.”

_ Oh come on! _

“Hey, Peter, sorry, I haven’t much time,” said Remus as he tried to go past him.

“Where are you off to?”

“Just off to the kitchens, feeling a bit peckish.”

“That’s what skipping dinner’ll do to you. I’ll come with—”

“No!” Remus cut him off harshly, but softened at the look on Peter’s face. “No, no, that’s alright, I’ve actually got to...hit the loo first. If you don’t mind.”

Peter gave him a look as if to say _TMI, dude._ But Remus didn’t care. He needed to get out of there without Peter getting suspicious. Peter put his hands up in defeat. “Alright then, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you back in the common room later tonight. I might come back here to study though, so don’t, don’t wait up or anything.”

He ducked out of the library and ran up the hall, toward the kitchens, without looking back.

He glanced at his watch. 8:59. He was going to be late! The fake detour towards the kitchens sent him in the exact opposite direction of the Charms classroom, so he had to climb a floor to double back. By the time he arrived, a little out of breath and on the verge of panting, it was 9:05. 

He stood in the hall, debating whether it was polite to knock or if he should just go in. He took a deep breath and tapped lightly on the door, barely enough to hear. Then he went in.

No one was there.


	4. In The Broom Cupboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: horrible Americanized British-isms abound. I'm sorry in advance!

_’S alright, ’s alright,_ Remus kept telling himself. It was only 9:05 and weren’t his friends always teasing him for being uptight and too punctual? 

In the corner of the closet was an old school desk; Remus felt it wobble when he sat in it. He was in an actually very spacious closet, with not much dust. Used often enough to scare away spiders, but no one would need it so late on a Friday night. It was clear that Digby had picked this closet with _intention._

He realized with a sinking feeling that he probably wasn’t the first one Digby brought here.

No matter. It is what it is. It was rather exciting actually, if you thought about it.

9:08. Should Remus go? Was Digby running late, or did he stand Remus up? Was a whole crowd of people in the hall, waiting for Remus to come out of the closet? Oh. _I get it. Har, har, very funny. What a clever joke._ Remus wasn’t sure what to do. He wished he’d brought the invisibility cloak. He’d probably have to sleep here all night, just to avoid the embarrassment.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did he do this? Why did he let himself get excited over a stupid little note? Of _course_ Digby wasn’t—of course he didn’t want to—. Of course. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Remus was banging his head on the desk when the door creaked open. He looked up, and much to his delight, Digby was sneaking in through the crack.

“You came,” Digby said, smiling warmly at Remus.

Remus shrugged. He didn’t want Digby to know how happy he was; he wanted to come off aloof and uncaring, like he only came because there wasn’t anything better to do and he was in the area.

Digby took the few steps to cross the cupboard and sat on the desk. “I can’t believe you came.”

“Me neither,” Remus said. Out of habit, he looked down at his watch. 9:12.

“Sorry about that, mate,” said Digby. He didn’t sound too beat up about it. “Some of my buddies from my house wouldn’t let me leave the common room without trying to follow me.”

Remus smiled. “Yeah, I had to shake off my mate too. Only just got here.”

Small talk. They were making small talk. What was Remus even doing here? How did this kind of thing normally go? He had a LOT of questions but was too embarrassed to ask Digby any of them.

Luckily, Digby moved first. He hopped off the desk, grabbed Remus by the wrist, and pulled him to his feet. He left his hand there, on Remus’ wrist. He looked at the other boy, like he was planning his next move. He stepped a little closer, Remus could see each individual eyelash framing his deep blue eyes. And the next thing he knew, Digby was kissing him, soft at first, but soon rougher, faster, nipping at his lips with his teeth. 

Remus had never felt this way before. Relieved and happy and unbelieving all at once. Kissing Digby was totally unlike kissing a girl - he was strong and unmoving, and Remus felt like he could relax a bit. He didn’t smell like perfume or potpourri, he smelt like wooden broom handles and fire.

Digby moved his hand up to Remus’ neck, entwining his fingers in his auburn hair. Remus made a noise, what kind of noise was it? Who cares, Digby’s pulling his hair harder, pushing into Remus’ body and pinning him to the wall. He opened his mouth a little, prompting Remus to do the same. Remus felt Digby’s tongue on his; it was warm and soft and strong.

Remus wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He wanted to let them loose all over Digby’s body, he wanted them to feel his strong arms and his ab muscles, he wanted to weave them into his hair and grab his butt. But he didn’t want to get carried away, he didn’t want to make a wrong move. So he put them on Digby’s hips instead. Digby exhaled hard into Remus’ mouth and moved his hips even closer, pressing against Remus.

Remus was getting hot and heavy and hard. Their tongues were so far into each other that he couldn’t tell where he stopped and Digby began. It got difficult to breathe, and they took a break from kissing to pant and catch their breath.

“I knew it,” Digby said in between breaths.

“What?” Remus asked innocently.

“That you were into blokes.”

“You just now figured it out?” Remus and Digby laughed a kind of breathless laugh around each other’s lips.

“You were good at hiding it.”

“Not too good, obviously.”

“Well, I’m experienced.”

Digby was kissing Remus’ neck, sucking on it and biting the skin, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to drive Remus crazy. His hands moved down Remus’ shoulders, across his chest, down his abs, one hand moving to Remus’ hip, and the other to his groin. Remus inhaled, surprised and pleased. Digby pushed his hand around the fabric of Remus’ trousers, sizing him up, feeling how hard he was. His hand moved up and Digby’s fingers slipped into Remus’ waistband, tugging on the button and pulling him closer.

For the first time, Remus was embarrassed. Snogging was one thing—you kept all your clothes on. But he wasn’t quite ready for anything more. He didn’t want Digby to see his scraggly, damaged werewolf body; didn’t want the opportunity for Digby to know _exactly_ how inexperienced he was.

He wanted to pull away but oh god please don’t stop. Remus’ head fell back and he moaned, he was so hard and the tips of Digby’s fingers were touching the tip of Remus’ cock and he didn’t want to keep going but he’d die if they stopped.

Digby slipped his free hand under Remus’ shirt, felt his ab muscles. Remus grabbed his wrist reflexively. He didn’t want Digby to feel the scars, ask questions, guess about where they came from.

“No, not yet, sorry, I’m not rea—”

Digby interrupted him with more heavy snogging. He slipped his hand out of Remus’ shirt and rested it on his chest. He started pulling his other hand out of Remus’ pants, but again Remus grabbed his wrist. This time, he pushed it further down. “Mm.”

“We don’t have to,” Digby said, pulling his lips away. He looked Remus in the eyes and Remus knew he meant it. “Really. I’m happy just kissing. We can stop anytime and anywhere you want. I just want you to like it.”

Remus smiled and nodded. “Yeah, okay.” How do you tell someone everything? I want you to touch me, but I don’t want you to _feel_ me? This feels so good but god, I don’t want to scare you away?

Remus, for the first time that night, wondered what it would be like to kiss Sirius. Would he mind if Sirius felt his scars? He’s seen them a hundred times. He’s actually seen all of Remus naked and it never bothered him. He already knew about his furry little problem... What would it be like, if Sirius were there now, instead of Digby?

“Let’s cool it then,” said Digby, removing his hand tenderly from Remus’ trousers. Remus checked his watch, how was it already 10:45? 

“Goody Prefect’s got to get home, eh?”

Remus shook his head in good humor. “I hate to leave, but we don’t want to get caught out of bed together, do we?”

“Better than getting caught in bed together, don’t you think?” Digby smiled slyly at Remus as he stepped away. 

Remus blushed. 


	5. Quidditch

When Remus returned to Gryffindor Tower, his friends were already asleep—or at least in bed. James always demanded that his teammates (and everyone who shared a dormitory with one) got plenty of rest the night before a match. This was a rather good thing for Remus, because no one was up to ask him where he’d been. Or to see his stupid grinning face, his mouth probably still pink from kissing.

The next morning, Peter and Remus walked down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the match together. His stomach filled with knots every time the announcer said _Wilson_ , but his heart skipped a beat every time she said _Black_. It was like he was watching two people rallying not for points, but for his affection. _Unrequited affection_ , he reminded himself, at least in the case of Sirius. He wasn’t entirely sure where he stood with Digby now.

In the end, Gryffindor won by a hundred and ninety points. After the game, Remus and Peter waited outside the locker room for their friends; James never kept them long after a win. (A loss, on the other hand, could sometimes keep them an hour or more.)

Remus impulsively thought of James and Sirius, fooling around in the showers. He shook his head to clear it.

Soon a few players emerged, and finally, James and Sirius appeared, talking excitedly about the miraculous plays they’d both made.

“And then when you faked O’Connor out and passed the Quaffle to me instead,” Sirius recounted as if telling a joke, tears in his eyes. He saw Remus and lit up, smiling even bigger. 

“Moony! We won!” Remus beamed back at him as Sirius ran toward him and hugged him. 

Over Sirius’ shoulder, Remus saw Digby come out of the opposing side’s locker room. Their eyes met and Digby scanned Sirius, up and down, like he was appraising something. He smirked at Remus and turned away, walking back to the castle. 

Sirius pulled out of the hug and grinned at Peter next, but didn’t hug him.

—

Remus always loved the nights that Gryffindor won. He was sitting alone on the couch by the fire, sipping his butterbeer and watching James dance with a lampshade on his head. _Cliche,_ Remus thought with a smile.

Sirius, who had spent the last five minutes starting a sort of chant among the other Gryffindors, abandoned it and joined Remus by the fire. He collapsed onto the cushion nearest Remus, which Remus thought was strange because the couch could have easily fit three or four people. He sat so close that the side of his arm was touching the side of Remus’, setting it on fire. Remus stared straight ahead.

“Did you like the game, Moony?”

“Mhm.”

“Good bit of flying, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, James was brilliant.”

“You know damn well I meant me.”

“‘Course I did.” Remus was trying not to smile _too_ much.

Sirius elbowed him. Remus noticed it only sunk them that much closer. He willed his face not to turn bright red.

“So what was your favorite part?”

“The end.”

“When MacDonald caught the snitch?”

“Nah, when the match was over.” _Stop smiling so much, you look like an idiot._

Sirius continued unphased. “Did you see me steal the ball from Wilson?” he asked, miming it in the air. “Swiped it right out from under his nose and he didn’t even know what hit him, stupid git.”

Remus’ ears turned red at the mention of Digby. “He’s not stupid, he’s in Ravenclaw—“

“Oh yeah, I forgot Wilson’s your _boyfriend_ now.” Sirius put extra emphasis on the word _boyfriend_ , dragging his voice the way he always did when he was making fun of Remus.

Remus rolled his eyes theatrically but his heart was speeding up, making him nervous and jittery. He was used to his body trying to betray his lies, it happened every time someone had asked him if he was feeling better after being mysteriously ill on the full moon.

“Come on, Padfoot, I’d never cheat on you.” He poked Sirius hard in the side, trying to add to the playfulness of the conversation. Sirius can’t know. He _can’t._

“Oi! You two!” Peter interrupted their banter. “Stop snogging and come help me!” He was trying to hoist up James, who had fallen (read: jumped) off a bookcase and into a group of fawning first year girls. Lily, Remus noticed, was smiling smugly, not far away.

Sirius winked at Remus, and they both got up to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was so incredibly short!! But I have another 2 lined up to post soon so you won't have to wait too long for another update.
> 
> PS Are there any active Wolfstar forums? I used to be really active on LJ but can't find any groups that are still active. LMK in the comments! TIA


	6. In Potions

The next Monday, they had Remus’ new favorite subject: Potions. Remus arrived in class a few minutes early, excited to see Digby for the first time since the Broom Cupboard Event. 

He sat there impatiently, drowning out what James and Sirius were talking about, and twiddling a quill between his fingers. When Digby finally entered the dungeon, Remus quickly threw his quill down and shuffled his body to look aloof and uncaring. Nailed it, Remus thought sarcastically.

“Hey,” Digby greeted Remus, smiling warmly.

“Hey,” replied Remus, his voice cracking and betraying him.

“Now, students,” greeted Slughorn as Digby sat down. “As promised, if you didn’t finish grinding your moonstones last week, take the first ten minutes or so of class to finish, and then move on to step twenty-three.” He waved his wand, and a diagram of cauldron-stirring appeared on the board.

Digby and Remus simultaneously and silently pulled their supplies out of their bags. “Right then,” said Digby, counting the moonstones. “We’ve only got another dozen. Almost finished…” 

He reached for a moonstone and started grinding, never even looking in Remus’ direction.

Remus thought this was strange. They’d made out and groped each other less than three days ago, and Digby was acting like nothing had happened at all.

Maybe that’s what it’s supposed to be like? wondered Remus. This was, after all, the first boy he’d kissed. He didn’t know all the rules yet.

Still, he would have liked to talk about it. Or at least acknowledge that something happened. 

Maybe Digby wanted to talk about it too, but like Remus, was wondering if he should?

“I caught the game on Saturday,” Remus decided to say.

“Yeah, I saw,” Digby replied, one corner of his mouth curling into a smile but his eyes still focused on his mortar and pestle.

“You played really well.”

“I know,” he said cockily. This time he looked up at Remus, smiled a tiny bit bigger, and reached for his next moonstone.

“Well, you still lost,” Remus mostly joked, trying to humble Digby a little.

Digby shrugged, his smile never fading. “Happens.”

Remus was reaching for his third moonstone when Digby said, “Saw you after the game. With Black.”

Remus’ ears turned pink. “Yeah, well, like I said, he’s one of my best friends.”

“Mmm hmm,” Digby cooed unconvincingly, implying suuuure he is... He gracefully emptied his powdered moonstone onto their pile, then stared at Remus, never looking away, as if trying to pull a confession from him.

Remus was confused. Was he supposed to be going out with Digby now? Should he have gone down to the pitch and waited for him after the game, instead of Sirius?

“Look, if you’re jealous or something—”

“Pff,” Digby interrupted. “I am not jealous of Black.” He said Sirius’ name like it was a swear word.

“Okay,” Remus muttered. If he wasn’t jealous of Sirius, why was he being so weird? Remus hadn’t expected love letters and a promise ring, but he had expected a warmer welcome. He had hoped that Digby would be as excited to see him, as he was to see Digby.

“What’s the next step, then?” Digby changed the subject, looking toward the blackboard. Remus picked up his copy of Advanced Potion-Making and read aloud. 

“‘Stir potion in figure-8 pattern, thrice clockwise and once counter-clockwise. Add ⅛ of the powdered moonstone slowly on every other upstroke. Repeat until all moonstone is dissolved and the potion turns a light violet colour.’” Remus looked up from the book, hopeless. “I guess that’s why we need a diagram.”

“No problem,” said Digby confidently. “It’s just like the Draught of Peace, only backwards.”

Remus nodded as if he knew that. He did not get an exceptionally great score on his Draught of Peace last year. He was glad, not for the first time, to have partnered with Digby.

They got to work stirring their potion, Digby’s hands on the ladle and Remus counting out loud and pouring in ground moonstone. Remus was trying not to get too distracted by Digby’s thick fingers, gripping the handle the way he imagined he’d grip Remus’ cock.

They talked and joked, the same way they usually did. The normalcy of it was what made it feel so foreign to Remus. After what they’d done in the broom cupboard, shouldn’t something have changed? Wouldn’t their conversations and playful banter be different, maybe more intense or intimate?

By the end of the period, their potion was light violet and Remus was no closer to figuring out where he stood with Digby. He thought multiple times that maybe he should bring it up, but thought better of it. Digby said himself that he was experienced with this kind of thing; if something needed to be said, he would have said it.

 

As usual, after class, James, Sirius, and Remus met up with Peter in Gryffindor Tower to unload their bags before dinner. When he was sure no one was watching, Remus peeked into his rucksack, looking for a note. There was nothing. He emptied the entire contents of his bag on his bed. Still nothing. 

His heart sank a bit. He was hoping for another invitation from Digby and was quite disappointed to not find one. He shoved his books haphazardly back into his bag and threw it away from him. 

“What’s your problem?” James asked him. 

Remus just shook his head. 

He remained sour and distant throughout dinner and the few hours after, until he finally went to bed, thinking about what could have gone wrong, and wondering if he really was that horrible at kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter....the next few will be twice as long, I promise! And there is more of the boys fooling around coming up too ;)


	7. Jaw Lines & Hand Jobs

Remus’ sour mood carried him through lessons on Tuesday and Wednesday morning. On Wednesday afternoon, they had Potions again. He was in such bad shape, he wasn’t really paying attention to what his friends were saying.

“Alright, I’d definitely kill the goblin, and probably... bed the troll and marry the mermaid,” Sirius said to James with a note of finality.

“You wouldn’t want to sleep with the mermaid?” 

“Nah, too slimy. Plus if I marry her, she’d probably still live in the lake or something, so I’d only have to see her on holidays.”

Digby came in the classroom then, smiling his Quidditch-captain-smile. He sat down next to Remus and said, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Remus replied. Of course, he wanted to sound cold and uncaring, but he just couldn’t keep the warmth out of his voice. 

They didn’t have long to talk. “Alright students,” began Slughorn in his usual way. “By now, your Amortentia should be maturing nicely. Can anyone remind the class how long it takes for the Amortentia to mature?”

Lily raised her hand. “Five days.”

“That’s correct, as usual. Thank you, Miss Evans. So, you all know what that means!” The class groaned in unison. “Please take out your copies of Advanced Potion-Making, and write me an essay on the properties of moonstone. We’ll come back to our Amortentia on Friday.”

“Ugh,” Digby sighed next to Remus, who was taking out his textbook and some parchment silently. “What’s even the point of coming to class when there’s nothing to do?”

Last week, Remus would have been very grateful for the opportunity to spend an extra hour next to Digby, even without a real assignment. But today, he was still bitter about how their class had gone on Monday, and found himself agreeing with Digby.

“Yeah, this essay’s just busy work.” Remus unfurled his parchment and started to write his name at the top.

Digby elbowed him, causing his hand to go askew and draw a crooked line across the paper. When Remus looked up, he was smirking.

Remus was annoyed that Digby was flirting with him after pretending on Monday that nothing happened. But on the other hand... Digby was flirting with him. So of course he felt giddy.

Remus smiled back before correcting his name on his paper and opening his book. While he was reading, he felt Digby shift in his seat, moving closer to Remus. Then, without warning, he leaned over and wrote on Remus’ parchment:

When can I see you again?

Remus read and re-read the note, his skin still burning from where Digby had touched him. He was having a small crisis. Did he even _want_ to see Digby again? He scribbled back:

_You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?_

_Ha, ha,_ Digby mouthed silently at Remus. When Remus didn’t write more, he replied:

When can I kiss you again?

Remus’ cock twitched and he turned bright red. He hastily covered the note with his hand; he did _not_ want to know the hell he’d get if Sirius or James happened to peek over and catch that one word on the page.

_Tonight?_

Will your mates be busy?

_I’ll tell them I’m studying._

9 again?

_Don’t be late this time._

Remus spent the remainder of the period doing his absolute best to concentrate, and failing miserably. All he could think about was seeing Digby again. 

  
  


Remus worried it would be a lot harder to get away from his friends that night. This time, he didn’t have to just ditch Peter, he had to ditch James and Sirius, too. 

He thought of using the cloak, but if he got caught, it’d be _painfully_ obvious that he was up to no good, and his friends would never let up until they figured out where he was going. 

So instead, at exactly 8:51, he calmly walked toward the portrait hole without saying anything.

“Where’re you going?” Sirius called out. He seemed to be the only one who even noticed Remus had got up. 

“I left my favorite quill behind,” Remus replied. “I’m going to look for it.”

“I’ll go with yo—”

“No!” he cut Sirius off hurriedly. “No, no, that’s fine, I’m not sure where I left it. I might have to walk around the whole castle.”

Then he hurried through the portrait hole, leaving no room for Sirius to object.

  
  


Remus praised himself the whole walk to the broom cupboard; he had managed to get away from his friends without them any the wiser. Sirius seemed a little suspicious, but would undoubtedly forget about it by morning.

When he opened the door to the closet, he was surprised to see Digby waiting for him, seated in the same desk Remus had been in last time. Digby looked up and smiled warmly.

“You’re not late,” Remus said, trying to tease but ending up sounding genuine.

Digby gave his characteristic shrug. “Happens,” he said playfully, smiling at Remus in a way he’d never been smiled at before... he was smiling with his eyes.

Remus smiled back while he thought of what to say. He didn’t really need to bother; a few seconds later, Digby was inches from his face, his hand holding Remus’ wrist.

He leaned forward and kissed Remus on the corner of his mouth, quick and dry. Remus’ heart beat faster.

“I didn’t think you’d want to meet up again,” Digby whispered in Remus’ ear.

“Why’d you think that?” Remus whispered back.

Remus felt Digby shrug. “You stopped us last time. I was worried I freaked you out.”

Remus just shook his head. “I didn’t freak out.” He swallowed hard, nervous. “I just want to go slow.” He added, self-consciously, “if that’s okay.”

Digby smiled. “Of course.” He leaned in again and kissed Remus, this time dead center on his lips. Remus, ready for him, pushed back, opening his mouth, drawing Digby’s tongue out with his own. He put his hand on Digby’s cheek, feeling his stubble and the sharp line of his jaw.

In the back of his mind, he thought of the shape of Sirius’ jaw, comparing it to Digby’s. He forced the thought away; he wanted to focus on what was happening.

Digby’s hand moved up Remus’ arm, leaving goosebumps. His hands were big and warm and rough; Remus felt his calloused skin scratching him. And he smelt good; very characteristically like a boy. Remus was surprised by how much he liked it, simply for the fact that Digby was so _masculine._

Digby’s fingers traveled to Remus’ stomach, lifting up his shirt just barely enough to create a small gap above his trousers. He fluttered his fingertips across his skin, pulling on the hair there, moving his fingers back and forth, sinking lower and lower until his hand was under Remus’ waistband.

Remus’ tongue was exploring Digby’s mouth when his fly was popped open and Digby’s hand disappeared under the fabric of his boxers. Remus clenched Digby’s shirt sleeves, and when Digby wrapped his hand around his cock, he gasped and pulled his lips away.

“That okay?” Digby asked, moving his hand down, stroking Remus.

“Nmm,” Remus managed to choke out. He was panting and sweating and all he wanted was _more_. He threw his head back, knocking it on a shelf and not caring. “God yes.”

Digby moved his hand up. Remus inhaled. He moved it back down. Remus whined. His knuckles were turning white; they were still gripping Digby’s shirt.

Digby moved faster, smirking as he watched Remus squirm beneath his hand. Remus’ breath grew ragged, desperate, his brow furrowed, he clenched his teeth, and then... he was still. He opened his eyes and saw Digby smiling at him, rather proud of himself.

“ _Scourgify_ ,” Digby muttered, and his silky white come disappeared. Remus was still panting, his face hot and blotchy.

“That was good,” he said between breaths, for lack of anything else to say. It _was_ good, of course -- but he wished in this moment there was a word he could use to communicate exactly how amazing that was, without sounding desperate.

Digby quickly moved to kiss Remus again, pushing hard against him and wasting no time. He took Remus by the wrists and guided his hands to his crotch, forced Remus to feel how hard his cock was, and grinded against his hands. He undid his fly and firmly shoved Remus inside.

Remus, of course, had never touched someone else’s dick—although he’d often thought about it. Well, not just any dick—and his mind went again to Sirius. He knew what Sirius’ looked like—it had been impossible not to steal glances for the last three years—but had no idea what it _felt_ like.

Remus focused again on Digby’s, on his hand that was wrapping around his cock like it knew what to do. Digby broke their kiss and threw his head back with a smile on his face, as if relaxing. Remus smiled; he liked the way Digby liked what he was doing.

Remus squeezed hard but not too hard; started moving fast but not too fast. He tried replicating what Digby had done and what he did by himself in his bed. Again he had to push the thought of Sirius out of his mind.

Digby moaned beneath him, encouraging Remus to move faster, grip a little tighter. His own cock twitched, getting hard again.

“I’m gonna come,” Digby moaned, and a few strokes later, he did. He threw his head on Remus’ shoulder, leaning on him with all his weight, panting hard.

“God, Remus,” he exhaled. “You sure you haven’t done that before?”

Remus laughed breathlessly, and Digby joined in. They stood together, pants undone and their arms around each other, silently laughing around each other’s lips, chests heaving in the aftermath of their orgasms, in the way only youth allows. 

“When can I see you again?” Remus asked when they had finally caught their breaths and were pulling up their pants. 

“You’re seeing me now,” Digby retorted with a wink. 

Remus rolled his eyes. “Never, then.” And he turned away, his fly still undone. Digby caught him by the elbow and pulled him back around. 

“How’s about this weekend?”

Remus panicked. This weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend. Was Digby asking if Remus wanted to _go with_ him to Hogsmeade? He enjoyed spending time with Digby (especially in the broom closet...) but the thought of making their arrangement public terrified the living daylights out of him. 

“Um, I might be busy…”

“The whole weekend?”

Remus shook his head. “No, I guess not the whole weekend... Just, I’m going to Hogsmeade with my friends,” he emphasized the last bit. 

“I meant after Hogsmeade, doof,” he replied in a way that made Remus feel mocked. His heart sank a little. Even though he’d never agree to it, he still wanted Digby to _want_ to go to Hogsmeade together. 

“Yeah, I can probably work that out.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you another note.” He smiled at Remus and left. 

Remus buttoned his fly, smoothed down his hair, and followed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a nice long chapter filled with smut ;) This is the point where I personally think it starts getting good, so please keep reading and commenting!!!


	8. Monkey in the Middle

That was not their last encounter in the broom cupboard, much to Remus’ delight. They met again that weekend, after the Hogsmeade trip; they met on nights when James and Sirius had Quidditch practice; they even once snuck in right after Potions, before dinner. That one had been particularly nerve-wracking (Remus was convinced that everyone could see in his eyes and his hair what he’d just done).

By this point, their Amortentia project was long finished, but Digby still sat by Remus for every class. They joked and laughed and flirted, and Potions remained Remus’ favourite subject. James, Sirius, and Peter still teased him to no end about Digby.

“How’s your boyfriend, Moony?” Sirius asked as they walked up to their dormitory after Potions.

“He’s good,” Remus “joked” back. He knew if he denied it, it would only make the truth more obvious. So instead, he played along, hoping that everyone else would believe the lie. “How’s yours?” he retorted.

“Oh, Jamesie’s doing fine,” Sirius replied, smiling from the corner of his mouth. “’Bout to celebrate our anniversary, actually...”

James hit him in the head. “Wanker.”

“Come, dear, don’t be that way.” He winked at Remus and whispered so only he could hear, “pun intended.”

As usual, when they got up to the dormitory, Remus peeked inside his rucksack, hoping for a note. He was not disappointed. He pulled out the small piece of balled parchment, but as he was about to uncrumple it, it was wrenched out of his hand.

“Hey!” Remus shouted at whoever stole the note. He turned around and saw Peter right behind him, holding the note up high, still crumpled in a ball.

“What’s this?” Peter mocked, keeping the parchment out of Remus’ reach. “A love letter for little ickle Moony?”

“Wormtail—” Remus reached for the parchment but was too late; Peter threw it behind his shoulder and James caught it.

“Wonder what it says,” James played along. Remus charged him, but before he could get close, James threw it back over Remus’ head and into Sirius’ hands.

“From his little boyfriend Wilson, perhaps?” Sirius taunted.

“Give it back!” Remus shouted, running full-speed at Sirius. He fell into him, grabbing at his arm, trying to pull the note down. Sirius held the ball higher, just out of reach of Remus, who was a few inches shorter.

Remus took out his wand and pointed it at Sirius.

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius said with a threatening smile, pulling out his wand with his free hand. “Don’t make me jinx you, you know I’d win.”

Remus hesitated, pointed his wand at the note, thought an incantation in his head, and put his wand back in his pocket.

“Thought so,” Sirius said smugly, returning his own wand. “Now to see what Moony’s keeping so secret.”

As Remus stood there fuming and James and Peter sniggered, Sirius carefully uncrumpled the parchment, making quite a show of it. But as he read the note silently, his face went from smug, to confused, to annoyed. He balled the paper back up and threw it at Remus’ head.

“He’s changed it,” he said to Peter and James, who were trying to figure out why he didn’t read it aloud. “Bloody tosser.”

Peter scooped up the note, which had fallen to the floor, and read it to James:  
“ _Mr Moony begs Mr Padfoot to keep his filthy canine paws off his things, and reminds him that he is less liked than the fleas on his backside._ ” (It was, after all, Remus who had enchanted the insults into the Marauder’s Map.)

James and Peter laughed hysterically, Peter having barely made it through reading the whole note before cracking up. Remus stared at Sirius, looking triumphant. Sirius glared back at Remus, but underneath his down-turned mouth was a smile. Remus smiled back, and Sirius finally, reluctantly, broke into a true grin.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” he said in good humour. “Now let’s move on.”

“Fat chance,” replied James.

“D’you really think we’d let this go?” added Peter.

“You should,” Sirius answered.

“Would you?” asked Remus.

“Irrelevant,” said Sirius.

They laughed and argued and teased all the way to the Great Hall. Remus felt particularly proud of himself for his quick thinking and excellent wizardry, but he regretted that he wasn’t able to read the note before spelling it. 

Oh, well. He had an idea of what Digby most likely wrote:  
Tonight  
Usual time  
Usual place 

After all, that’s what every other note had said. Truth was, when the guys had joked about it being a love letter from his boyfriend, Remus was crestfallen. That was far from reality. 

Although Digby and Remus met regularly to fool around, Digby showed almost no interest in Remus in public. They never sat by each other on the grounds or talked in the hallways. They actually never really talked at all—they usually skipped straight to kissing—at least, outside of Potions. 

Remus grew to treasure those few hours a week spent in Slughorn’s dungeon. It seemed like the only chance he got to really spend quality time with Digby.

So during dinner, while James and Peter recited for the hundredth time Remus’ modified note (they had it memorized within minutes), Remus made up his mind to confront Digby. He needed to know what they were and where they were going. _God, that’s cheesy,_ he thought. But it had to be done. 

After dinner, the four boys returned to the common room to finish up some homework. Sirius made a point to sit next to Remus, something Remus would have loved two months ago.

They all pulled out various books, quills, and papers, and got to work. Sirius’ arm brushed against Remus’ as he unfurled some parchment.

Scratch that. Remus loved sitting so close to Sirius, even now.

“So what’d the note actually say?” Sirius whispered. He had to get insanely close to Remus to make sure only he could hear. Remus could feel his breath on his cheek. His ears turned pink and the back of his neck prickled.

“How do you know it was a note?” he whispered back. He could smell Sirius’ skin and the shampoo in his hair. He tried not to get dizzy. “How do you know I didn’t plant it there to punk you?”

Sirius gave him an accusatory look. Remus shuffled uncomfortably. It was _so hard_ to lie to Sirius; it was too tempting to just give him whatever he wanted.

“I don’t know,” he admitted finally, still whispering. “I had to spell it before I could read it.”

“Who left it for you?”

“How am I supposed to know who left it when I couldn’t even read it?” That was an easy lie to tell; Remus was still determined to not let anyone find out about Digby.

“ _Was_ it Wilson?”

Remus’ heart skipped a beat, like it always did when Sirius asked about Digby, which was more and more often lately. He wasn’t expecting anyone to guess dead-on, and it caught him off guard.

“I told you, I didn’t read the note.”

Sirius looked Remus up and down, analyzing his face, trying to catch him in a lie. Remus stared back at him defiantly. That seemed to appease Sirius; he returned to his homework.

Before long, it was almost 9, time for Remus to leave. Today, unlike other days, Remus was a little reluctant to go; he was having a good time doing homework with his friends (it may have helped that he could still smell Sirius’ hair, and their arms kept touching...).

He packed up his things anyway and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Sirius asked, as usual; this time, though, he sounded a little more accusatory.

“Prefect rounds,” Remus lied. He had rehearsed what he was going to say since dinner. James and Peter kind of nodded an acknowledgement without looking up from their homework. 

“But you’re not on duty tonight,” Sirius protested. “You just did rounds last Thursday!”

Remus wasn’t expecting anyone to remember his prefect schedule. “Well, another prefect’s sick,” he said. Then added a quick “good night” in hopes of ending the conversation.

Happy to be in the clear, Remus left the common room and headed to their broom cupboard. He was still a little worried that the note might have said something different, and Digby wouldn’t be there. If that was the case, Remus had wasted one of his “prefect rounds” excuses on nothing, and he’d have to stay out of the common room for an hour anyway.

When he opened the door, he was pleased to see Digby smiling at him in the light from the hallway. As usual, Digby stood up immediately, crossed the tiny space between them, and wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist.

“Missed you,” he said as his mouth met Remus’.

“Mm,” Remus replied, nodding his head and dragging Digby’s lips along with him.

Remus had to talk to Digby about something, but he couldn’t remember what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter so far! Don't forget to kudos, and comment to tell me your thoughts and how you like it :D


	9. Please Don't Tell

Before long, their kissing turned to groping.

“God, Remus, I want you so bad,” Digby moaned. His hand was moving down, rubbing Remus' cock through his trousers, his lips were dragging down his neck, kissing and biting the dip in his shoulder.

Digby’s free hand went up Remus’ shirt, feeling his abs and chest hair. He ran his fingertips along a particularly long scar, the only one Remus ever let him feel (the first time was by accident). Remus always stopped him when he tried to go further; he didn’t want him to ask awkward questions. He impulsively grabbed Digby’s wrist, tugged it back out.

“What’s the matter?” Digby asked, pulling his other hand away from the bulge in Remus’ trousers. “Why won’t you ever let me touch you?”

“I don’t like...” Remus started. “I don’t like...you know, I don’t like you under my shirt.”

“Is it your scar?”

Digby thought there was only one.

“No, I just don’t.”

“Remus, you don’t have anything to worry about.” Digby took a small step back and looked over Remus from his neck down to his crotch. “You’re _fit_.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” Digby asked softly, almost lovingly. For a minute, Remus wanted to tell him.

“ _I’m a werewolf_ ,” he was tempted to admit. “ _I have scars I don’t want you to see_.” In the last two months, Digby learned more about Remus’ body than anyone else ever had. Didn’t he deserve to know the truth about why Remus didn’t want to take off his shirt?

But telling him would be sharing his secret, the secret that only James, Sirius, and Peter knew. It was what united them as friends...maybe even the reason they _were_ friends. Could he bring Digby into that?

No, he couldn’t. Instead, he said, “I just don’t want to.”

Remus swore he saw a hint of annoyance pass over Digby’s face, only for a fraction of a second. But Digby smiled his warm smile and said, “Okay, if you’re sure.” And leaned in for another kiss.

His hands instead moved down to Remus’ fly and pulled down his zipper. He must have pulled his own down, too, because a second later, Remus felt Digby’s cock poking out of his pants. He reached for it blindly, his eyes closed and his mouth still kissing, until he felt Digby’s soft skin under his fingers. 

He started stroking at the same time Digby stroked him; back and forth they pulled at each other, matching one another’s pace and breathing heavily into each other’s parted lips. 

God it felt so _good_ , Remus got used to Digby in general but never got used to how good Digby felt. His calloused hands, his strong arms, his wide tongue. Everything about Digby felt good, especially when he was touching Remus _like that_.

Remus’ breathing was getting more and more ragged, just like Digby’s, and he wanted to see Digby come, wanted to _make_ him come, and thinking about it brought him closer to his own orgasm. He was panting now, moving his hand faster and faster, imploring Digby to do the same; faster, _faster,_ he could feel Digby tensing up, he was tensing up himself, he knew they were both getting close, and then— 

The door opened.

Remus and Digby pulled away from each other quickly, trying to cover themselves with their hands, looking up guiltily at whoever walked in on them.

“So this is ‘prefect duty,’ is it?” Sirius asked.

The door closed again.

“Oh shit,” Digby said.

“Sirius—” Remus rushed the buttoning of his fly as he stumbled out the door. “Wait here,” he told Digby over his shoulder. “Sirius—”

Sirius was already a ways down the corridor, his hands in his pockets in what Remus knew was very orchestrated nonchalance.

“Sirius, wait!” he shouted, but Sirius kept going as if he couldn’t hear him.

Finally Remus caught up and grabbed him by the elbow. He was out of breath, partly from running down the hall but mostly from the fear and adrenaline of the whole damn situation. Sirius shrugged him off and kept walking.

“Sirius, let me explain—”

“No need,” Sirius said calmly, without stopping to glance at Remus. Remus hadn’t ever seen Sirius like this; he was either laughing, bored, or angry. He was never _calm_. 

“Stop _moving_ and look at me!” Remus practically shouted, pulling Sirius around to face him, and planted his feet where he stood.

Sirius finally stood still and made eye contact. “This’ll be good. Well, explain away, dear Moony.” Again with the calm. Remus was worried he was in shock.

Now that he had Sirius listening to him, fully paying attention to him, he didn’t know what to say. What was he thinking in the first place, telling him that he could explain? Explain what?

“I’m not— I’m not _bent_ or anything,” Remus lied. He wanted to say something, anything, to separate himself from Digby, to convince Sirius that he was normal.

“Looked pretty bent to me,” Sirius said softly, just barely above a whisper. His eyes never left Remus’ but they were cold, missing the usual humour behind them. It scared Remus. 

“I’m just— we’re just—”

“You’d better get back to your boyfriend, Moony.”

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend.” This was the one thing Remus had said so far with confidence.

“Someone’d better tell Wilson that.”

“He knows. Look—” He grabbed Sirius by the elbow again, but Sirius shrugged him off violently. “This is nothing, it’s just, you know, fooling around—” Sirius scoffed but Remus continued. “I’m still _me_ , nothing’s changed about me—”

“How long has this been going on, then?” Sirius interrupted him. He was losing some of the calmness, anger was creeping in.

Remus took a step back, defensive. “That’s none of your business.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“ _Fine_. It’s no skin off my nose who you let suck you off—”

Then Remus shoved Sirius; not too hard, just enough to knock him back a step. “Shut up.”

“What, you’re happy _doing_ it but not talking about it?”

“I said shut up,” and he shoved him again, harder. 

This time, Sirius shoved him back. Remus wanted to punch him, but restrained himself. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. 

“You should go,” he finally demanded.

“I was trying.” Sirius was scowling, defiant, as he turned around and walked away from Remus, his hands clenched.

Remembering Digby, Remus went back to the broom cupboard.

Digby was sitting in the old desk, his knee bouncing beneath his hand. When Remus came in, he glanced up apprehensively, but looked relieved when he realized who it was.

“Hey,” Remus sighed, for lack of anything else to say.

Digby stood up and went to Remus, wrapping his arms around him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Remus was shaking, he didn’t know if he was angry or sad. Probably both.

“Did he freak out?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Remus allowed himself to be comforted, burying his face in Digby’s shoulder and breathing in the smell of his shave lotion.

“Do you think he’ll tell anyone?” 

It was then that Remus realized Digby was scared. Sure, he could talk up a storm about how many guys he’d been with, but he still didn’t want anyone in the school to know.

Remus thought about it. Would Sirius tell anyone? Probably James and Peter. Or, more likely, just James. But outside of their close personal circle...well, he’d kept Remus’ furry little problem a secret long enough, hadn’t he?

Remus hoped this would be the same. But the look on Sirius’ face just now was an entirely different look he’d had when his friends revealed that they knew Remus was a werewolf. He looked upset, and hurt, like it was a personal insult to him.

“I don’t think so,” he finally answered. Digby’s face sunk and Remus could see the apprehension in his eyes. That wasn’t good enough. “I’ll talk to him, alright?”

Digby didn’t say anything, and he still looked anxious.

“I’ll talk to him,” Remus repeated. “He won’t tell, don’t worry.” Remus kissed Digby gently, whispering assurances until Digby kissed back.

—

Remus got back to Gryffindor tower probably an hour after his run-in with Sirius. It had taken a while to assure Digby that no one would find out about his exploration with blokes. And once he felt better about that, well…they continued their “exploration.”

“Where’s Padfoot?” Remus asked Peter and James, who were playing wizard’s chess in the corner. (James, of course, was winning, but Peter always insisted that no one went easy on him.)

“Went to bed already,” Peter said from the corner of his mouth, focusing on the board, even though it was James’ turn.

Remus hoped they’d paid as much attention to Sirius an hour earlier when he walked up to the dormitory. 

“Padfoot?” Remus asked, standing on the other side of Sirius’ bed curtain. He knew he wasn’t asleep (Sirius snored), but figured he was probably avoiding him.

“Padfoot, I need to talk to you.”

Still no response.

Remus talked through the curtain anyway, sure that Sirius was listening. “Sirius, I know we freaked you out but please— please, don’t tell anyone what happened. Not even Prongs and Wormtail. Please.” His voice was desperate.

He stood there, staring at the bed curtain, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Sirius made a strange but deliberate noise that sounded something like “N’k,” and Remus knew he wouldn’t tell, no matter how gross he thought it was. 

Exhausted, Remus went to bed, but couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, listening all night to Sirius doing the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be a WIP... I'll post here if I end up making any significant updates ;) But meanwhile, let me know how you like this chapter in the comments! Love you all, thanks for reading along!


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